


Warmth

by Justamanlymouse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captive Tony Stark, Gen, HTP, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kinda?, M/M, Naked Cuddling, The asset tries to give him one, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, this is the aftermath of those implied things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justamanlymouse/pseuds/Justamanlymouse
Summary: “Rules of engagement?” it asks.“Survive,” its Mechanic husks out, dripping wet hair falling into his eyes as he looks up at The Asset. Relief pools through it. Him. It. Him. He can touch. He can help.The Asset needed a mechanic. HYDRA found him one, capturing Tony Stark. The mechanic always makes sure The Asset is opperational, so The Asset will protect its mechanic, however it can.Title: WarmthCollaborator Name: MouseLink: A03Square Filled: U3 - Huddling for WarmthShip: WinterironRating: MMajor Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Refrenced Torture, Implied/Refrenced Sexual Assult/Rape, Naked cuddlingWord Count: 629
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 234
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a world built in collaberation with [Strangling_Rosemary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strangling_Rosemary/pseuds/RiotFalling). 
> 
> Special thanks to [RiotFalling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling) and [FestiveFerret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret) for betaing!

The Asset is led into a cell that does not belong to it. It does not have its cryo chamber, and it can not see its chair from here. 

It is almost a freedom, a cell that is different. Walls that are made of the same grey concrete and steel, but were not its walls. It is like a vacation, if weapons can take such things. 

It hears before it sees, and its heart drops. It has a heart. This is an incredibly inconvenient development, will lead to being reset. It’s being reset more and more often lately, and it’s aware enough of the person inside it to know that the train of thought currently circling its head is exactly why. 

It turns to the sound, a clattering and a choked shaky breath. Its heart might actually break. What did they want it to do here? What was the game? Its mechanic - ‘ _ Tony’ _ , the human part of his brain reminds him - is shivering, his teeth chattering so hard that it worries the human man might break them. 

Its eyes adjust to the dim light, and it sees. Tony had been used, and then he had been cleaned. Sometimes the cleaning can be just as much of a torture as what made the two of them filthy. He is naked, the blue from his chest the brightest light to see by, but he is curled in on himself, trying to hide even that. 

The Asset watches for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “Rules of engagement?” it asks, taken aback by how quiet, how gentle, how human its own voice sounds. The mechanic’s life is different from the one The Asset survives, here. He is only required to give maintenance to the weapon. This does not take long, so he also is expected to entertain those they both belong to in other ways. Games the Handlers like to play. Sometimes when The Asset is near him, there are rules. The mechanic used to break them. He does not anymore.

“Survive,” its Mechanic husks out, dripping wet hair falling into his eyes as he looks up at The Asset. Relief pools through it. Him. It. Him. He can touch. He can help. 

He strips without shame or preamble, working off his boots. Shame is a feeling that even this close to needing reset, The Asset does not know. They have seen everything of each other’s bodies anyway. There is no hiding in a place like this. 

He bends down in front of the mechanic. His mechanic. As gently as a weapon can manage, he wipes him down, trying his best to dry him off with the rough tactical gear he wears. The shivering does not subside. The Asset frowns. How long must his mechanic have been sprayed down for? He always glows blue from his heart, but there is blue and purple in his fingers and toes. There is no fat on his broken body to fight the cold. 

Survive, Tony had said. He will. They will. Always. A weapon needs its mechanic to remain at peak functionality. He sits his ass down on the cold metal floor, and a shiver goes through his own body just at that. Carefully, he picks his mechanic up - Far too light, less than optimal - and pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. 

His mechanic sobs, curling into The Asset, his face in his neck, shaking hands pressing onto his chest to pull from his warmth. What a beautiful sound, he thinks, the mechanic’s cries. The sound of something not yet empty. Something still human. Something still fighting. 

He does not know why - because what is the point of that fight in a place like this - but The Asset is proud. 


End file.
